It'll Get Better
by ninjadevil2000
Summary: Post Endgame - Pre FFH: Peter gets hurt. Old memories resurface, wounds remain open, some start to heal. Iron Family fluff, Peter and Ned friendship, etc.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or Spider-Man. I wish I did though because I don't trust Sony with him.**

**Author's Note: I hope you enjoy this story. I actually cried while writing it and I put a lot of effort in so please review. It would mean a lot. Thanks.**

* * *

Peter had already had a rough morning. He'd woken up early enough to see May off to work and grab himself a granola bar before swinging off on a quick patrol before school.

After swinging around for a few minutes, he'd found two robberies that were easy enough to stop as well as a break-in at a nearby apartment complex. He came away from all of these unscathed, but then he'd found a murder being attempted. From what he had had Karen listen in on, a woman was apparently seeking revenge on her ex-boyfriend for cheating on her. He got to the coffee shop where the crime was happening just in time. He shot the gun out of the woman's hand before webbing her up, gently but tightly, to the wall. From what he'd heard, he figured the guy could use a trip to jail as well so he webbed him up too and then asked the barista to call 911.

Apparently, though, there had been a third party involved in the situation, for as Peter waved to a few of the customers in the coffee shop, readying to swing away to school, the sound of a gun firing rang through Peter's ears and he felt a searing pain in his side. Stumbling, he turned.

"Karen," he gasped. "Web grenade."

The AI heard the request and Peter shot a web grenade at the shooter. It was another woman. Peter didn't have time to think about what was going on or why she should suddenly start shooting at him, so after webbing her up like the other woman, he swung away, ignoring the oncoming wails of sirens and the frightened words of the other customers.

He crawled up a nearby rooftop before collapsing. His left hand had been pressed to his side, while his right shot strands of web for him to swing on. Now, he pulled his hand away and took off his mask, looking down. His hand was covered in sticky blood and it had dripped down the leg of his suit.

"Karen?" he spoke quietly. "Medical webbing."

"Of course, Peter," replied the AI's soft voice.

Aiming his hand at his side, Peter shot a coating of soft, protective webbing around the wound, protecting it from the outside elements and staunching the bleeding. Luckily, the wound had only been a graze so Peter didn't have to worry about withdrawing a bullet.

After webbing it up completely, Peter glanced at his watch. He figured he could take five minutes so he laid back on the roof of whatever building he was on and took some deep calming breaths. Slowly but surely, the pain dimmed a minuscule amount, a result of his speed healing.

Peter, not daring to close his eyes in case his wound was more dangerous than he thought, stared up at the blue sky and the fluffy clouds that sailed slowly across it, like ships in the water.

Then, glancing at his watch again, Peter pushed himself up and took a deep breath before stretching his arms out and swinging away through the streets once more. Determined to not be late for school for the third day in a row, he grabbed his bag from his apartment's fire escape on the way.

School was fairly laid back to Peter's relief. He met up with Ned at their locker, completing their signature handshake. He saw MJ passing and gave her a hesitant smile to which she replied with a rude hand gesture. He chuckled before heading off to his Spanish lesson. There was a pop quiz that Peter was able to pass fairly easy and then history. This was the class Peter most dreaded, but he knew end of year tests would be coming soon so he forced himself to pay attention. It was during history though, that he noticed the pain in his side growing again. He hesitantly felt his side, relieved to find that it wasn't bleeding through the bandaging, at least not yet. The pain grew steadily worse and he started to feel lightheaded.

After history had ended, Peter went to a nearby bathroom and searched his backpack for the handy pain pills he usually kept on hand. He never enjoyed using them much because it made him feel a bit nauseous, but he figured they couldn't make him more nauseous than he already was. He searched frantically as his vision grew slightly blurry, and he groaned when, after nearly five minutes of searching, he couldn't find them. Closing his eyes, Peter tried to think back to the last time he had used them. Then it hit him. He had used them a couple of weeks previously when he had been stabbed by a maniacal drunk wrestler. That had been quite an interesting fight and also a very painful one. He had defeated the man, but not before sustaining a cracked rib, a black eye, and a stab wound on his shoulder. The rib and eye had healed quickly enough, both nearly good as new the next day. But the stab wound, well, he wasn't sure but he figured the knife must have had something on it because the wound had turned slightly green and swelled immensely.

He remembered taking a couple of the pain pills for that wound. They had helped quite a bit, but Peter knew that, in the pain, he must've not returned the pills to his backpack.

He groaned as he pulled himself up and out of the bathroom stall, wandering over to the sink and splashing some water on his face. It helped a little bit and after rubbing his eyes, his vision grew a bit more normal. He took a few deep breaths before leaving the bathroom for the cafeteria. He quickly found Ned, already sitting at their usual table.

"Peter?" Ned asked as Peter approached and sat down next to his friend, placing his head down on the cool table. "Peter, are you okay?"

Peter quietly shook his head.

"Spider-Man get hurt?" Ned asked, lowering his voice.

Peter nodded slowly, wincing at the pain that rippled through his head.

Ned put a hand on Peter's shoulder and patted it a few times. "If you want to go home, I'll cover for you and say you were sick," he offered.

Peter sat up and rubbed his eyes again. "No, I can make it."

"You sure?" Ned asked.

"Yeah," Peter said, nodding again then quickly regretting it.

"Okay, then," Ned said. "I got you some spaghetti but you're probably not hungry, are you?"

Peter eyed the tray of food skeptically, and Ned took his silence as a no.

"Alright, well listen, if you get to feeling worse, let me know, and I'll cover for you," Ned added.

Peter gave him a small smile. "Thanks, Ned. I don't deserve you."

Ned rolled his eyes but kept a reassuring hand on Peter's shoulder. "Just take me to meet Thor one day and we'll call it even."

Peter managed a small laugh. Throughout the day, he felt the wound on his side growing steadily hotter and more painful. Finally, during his last class, English, he couldn't take it anymore.

He didn't know what to do other than excuse himself. Grabbing his bag, he muttered an excuse and bolted from the classroom, feeling the stares of his teacher and fellow students follow him. Racing to the nearest bathroom, Peter ducked into a stall and fumbled for his phone in his pocket. Somehow, he managed to unlock it and press the contacts icon. Hitting a number out of habit, Peter listened to the dialing of the phone.

After about six rings, Peter felt his heart plummet as a robotic voice spoke the words, _"This phone number has been disconnected or is no longer in service."_

Peter let out a soft cry as he pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it. Out of habit and sheer panic, Peter had called Tony, expecting him to answer, expecting to hear the soothing sound of his mentor, his father figure, the man he'd looked up to . . . the man he had loved.

Peter dropped the phone as if it had burned him. Tears pooled in his eyes and his hands shook. His side ached and burned but not as bad as his heart. After a moment, he scrambled in his backpack again for his Spider-Man mask. Finding it, Peter pulled it over his head, pressing himself against the wall of the bathroom cubicle.

"Karen," Peter said quietly, clutching his knees to his chest and swallowing thickly. "Karen?"

Suddenly, he heard Karen's soothing voice and a soft piece of music. Peter recognized it instantly. It was the instrumental version of Brandy, You're A Fine Girl.

"I'm here, Peter," the AI said. "I'm always here."

Peter started to softly cry in the corner, listening to the music. He remembered the first time he'd ever heard the tune. It was a few months after the Vulture incident. Peter had been out hunting a wanted serial killer and his gang, but they had laid a trap for him. He'd been shot out of the sky by a sniper. Peter hadn't remembered much other than falling, hearing a crack, and then waking up, dazed and pain ridden, in Avengers Tower.

When he'd awoken, he hadn't been able to move much because he had cracked two of his vertebrate. That had been one of the worst injuries Peter had ever had to deal with. But, when he had been able to open his eyes, he had felt a warm weight on the side of his head and a soft humming from next to him. Blinking, Peter had flicked his eyes around the darkly lit room. There he had seen Tony, sitting in a chair next to the bed, softly humming a tune over and over and his hand stroked Peter's hair, the other hand scrolling absentmindedly on a tablet.

Peter had fallen asleep again rather quickly, feeling the soft weight of his mentor's hand and low hum of a tune he would grow to love. Now, huddled in the bathroom of his school, Peter found himself being sucked away into a wormhole of memories and pain, the low hum of Looking Glass the only thing keeping him afloat.

* * *

"I've got you, Peter," A voice drifted in through the haze of pain and memory.

Peter yelped softly as a arm wrapped around his shoulders and he was pulled upright. Blinking, Peter opened his eyes before shutting them again. The room was bright and the pain in his side still resided.

He felt another arm wrap around him, helping him out of the bathroom, before he fell back into the chasm where only voices reached him.

"I've got you, kid," a voice said again.

"Mr. Stark?" Peter murmured.

The voice said something again but Peter couldn't hear it. "Mr. Stark, why did you leave?"

"It's alright, Peter, it'll be okay." The voice sounded upset. Emotional . . . but empty.

"Peter, it's alright," a different voice said. This one was lighter, younger.

"Har-Harley?" Peter muttered.

"It's me, Peter, we've got you," the voice replied.

"Harley, how is Mr. Stark here?" Peter asked innocently. He forced his eyes open and looked over at Harley.

The face of the young man was blurry but visible. "He's not here, Pete," Harley replied, looking sadly at the other young man. "He's gone."

"But – but," Peter stammered. "I just heard him. He said it was alright."

"That – that's not Tony," Harley replied, and Peter noticed his voice was thick as well. "Hey, just – just close your eyes and – and keep walking, okay?"

"Where are we going?" Peter asked, still speaking in the innocent childlike tone that would've broken anyone's heart.

"We'll go to the cabin," Harley replied. "Now, just close your eyes, okay? We'll be there soon."

And so Peter closed his eyes, falling somewhere where not even the voices could reach him now.

* * *

Peter stirred feebly. A hand was stroking his hair as he lay on a comfortable bed. There was a faint smell of wood in the air and a nearby window seemed to be open for a cool breeze wafted across his face.

"Mr. Stark?" Peter asked softly.

The stroking stopped for a moment before resuming again.

"Peter, it's me, sweetheart," a soft voice said.

The stroking of his air continued while the voice spoke again. "Shh." It was Pepper.

"Pepper?" he muttered.

"Shh, it's alright, Pete," she murmured. "You're alright. Do you want to talk about what happened?" she asked gently. "We saw where you'd been hurt."

Peter pushed himself up on his elbows. Looking down, Peter saw that he had been put in some new clothes and, gingerly touching his side, he saw that it had been stitched up and was healing.

"It was before school," Peter said. "I was stopping a crime but there another woman was in on it and shot me."

In the dim light streaming in through the window, Peter saw Pepper's face tighten as he continued. "I webbed it shut, but it started to hurt and I hadn't replaced the pain pills Dr. Cho had given me in my backpack," he added, his words disconnected by the fog that hadn't yet lifted.

"How often do you need those pills, Peter?" Pepper asked seriously.

Peter gave a noncommittal shrug which seemed to answer Pepper's question.

Suddenly, Peter gasped. "May! She'll be worried."

"I already called her," Pepper said quickly. "I told her about what happened and she just said to call her when you were awake."

Peter nodded and took the outstretched phone from Pepper. After calling his aunt and assuring her that he would be okay, May asked to talk to Pepper so he handed the phone back. After ruffling his hair again, Pepper left the room.

Now, alone in silence, the light fading, Peter fell asleep again, falling into a chasm of disembodied voices, cries, and gunshots.

* * *

The next time Peter woke up, Happy was there by his bed, flipping through the pages of a magazine. Peter couldn't stay awake though, the healing process and medicines taking a toll on his mind and body. So back he fell into the void.

The third time he woke up, Peter found himself feeling much better. He opened his eyes wide before squinting slightly at the bright sunlight.

"Hey."

Peter looked around. It was Harley.

"Hi," Peter croaked back. Pushing himself up, he looked around, taking in his surroundings more. He was in the cabin that Pepper and Morgan lived in. The one Tony had had specially built for his family.

"How're you feeling?" Harley asked.

"Terrible," Peter replied. "I mean, it doesn't hurt much anymore," he continued, gesturing to his side. "But everything else, terrible."

"Yeah," Harley replied simply. They exchanged a look and they saw the pain in each other's eyes. Peter and Harley had met a few months before the Snap when Tony had arranged a meeting for two members of – as they now called themselves – the Iron Clan.

Though they hadn't known each other long, they knew each other well enough to bond, and they had forged a very strong one in the few months they had known each other before the Snap. That bond had only strengthened with Tony's passing. They didn't see each other as often as they would've liked as Harley, now five years older than Peter, was one of the heads of a large tech company, but they saw each other when they could.

Peter realized he was lucky that Harley had been visiting Pepper and Morgan at that time.

"I – uh –" Peter said hesitantly. "I remember a little bit of what I said when you guys found me."

Harley nodded.

"Was that Happy with you?" Peter asked.

Harley nodded again.

Peter groaned and put his hands over his face. "Why do I always make things worse for people?" he muttered to himself, but Harley overheard.

"Peter," he said firmly. "You have got to stop beating yourself up, okay?"

Peter lowered his hands and looked over at the eldest "Iron Child."

"You always do this and it's not good," Harley insisted. "You don't mean for anything bad to happen so how is it your fault when they do? You can't stop every bad thing from happening."

Peter remained silent, biting his lip and staring up at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry, Pete," Harley said after a moment. "Look, I care about you alright? And it kills me to see you beating yourself about everything. You – you're like my brother." There was silence again before Harley stood up. "I'll come check on you in a bit, okay? Try and get some more sleep. Morgan's been dying to see her big brother so maybe tonight you can see her."

And, giving him a pat on the shoulder, Harley left Peter, promising to visit again in a bit with some lunch.

The next couple of days went slow, but Peter got better quickly. Later that evening, he moved into the living room and watched a Disney movie with Morgan, Harley, Pepper, and Happy who were all staying at the cabin. Morgan had been so happy to see her big brother up and about that she had jumped on him, banging her elbow into his side as she did so. It had hurt quite a bit, but Peter hugged his little sister back eagerly.

A week after the initial incident, something happened. Walking through the kitchen, he had passed the garage door which was open. Curious, Peter had ventured through and came upon Morgan and Harley who were tinkering with one of Tony's old suits.

"Oh, hey, Peter," Harley said, noticing him come up to the work station. "You feeling okay?"

Peter nodded. "What are you two doing?"

"Just messing around," Harley said evasively, but Morgan was less discreet.

"Harley said that if we could get one of Daddy's old suits working again, he might take me for a fly," she said innocently. "I wanted to ask you to help but Harley said not to."

Peter nodded. "Oh," he said simply. And, he didn't know why, but suddenly he felt emotions creeping up on him again. He took a deep breath. "Listen, you two, I – I want to do this and –" Harley opened his mouth but Peter continued – "and I think it would be good for me."

Harley closed his mouth and nodded. "I'll get some goggles and gloves for you," he said, gesturing to the tools they were working with.

Peter nodded before turning and going back inside. Sitting down at the kitchen table, Peter grabbed a napkin and blew his nose. That was how Pepper found him a few minutes later. Sitting at the table, tears slowly falling onto the young man's lap as he stared into space.

"Peter?" she said, sitting down across from him. "Honey, what's wrong?"

"I hate feeling like this," Peter said quietly. "I hate feeling sad and hurt and angry and depressed all the time. I just want to go back. I just want to go back to how things were before any of this ever happened," he said. He couldn't help but put his head in his hands. "I just want to go back to a time before Th-Thanos and Titan and – and the battle."

Pepper moved over and hugged Peter. "I know, sweetheart," she said, and her voice sounded choked. Peter knew she had to be holding back her own tears. "I know. But it'll be okay. It'll get better."

And it did. After wiping his eyes and splashing his face with some cool water, Peter went back out to the garage and proceeded to help Harley and Morgan and by the end of the day, they a near fully functional Iron Man suit. And he had fun. He laughed at Harley and Morgan, two people he looked at as his siblings.

It hurt, but in a good way. And Peter knew that Tony would be proud. And eventually, it would hurt less. Eventually, it would get better. It'll


End file.
